GOT King of Dragon

It didn't unleash dragonfire, nor did it intend to tear him apart. 

With a mighty flap of its wings, the gluttonous dragon lifted its massive body off the mountain peak, soaring into the boundless sky. 

Feeling the weightlessness envelop him, Rhaegar struggled to open his eyes, barely managing to squint through the dizziness. He realized there was no longer anything blocking his view—above him was the drifting sea of clouds. 

"We're flying..." 

His eyes widened in astonishment. Rhaegar murmured softly to himself, gazing in awe at the breathtaking scenery, utterly at a loss. 

Then, an overwhelming joy overtook him. Ecstatic, he burst into laughter. "I'm flying! I've done it—I'm riding on the back of a dragon!" 

Adjusting his posture, Rhaegar laid himself flat against the dragon's back and leaned forward to peer at the ground below. 

The gluttonous dragon flew fast, its wings carrying them effortlessly above the clouds. 

What had once been the vast island of Dragonstone, which would take a whole day to traverse on foot, now appeared to Rhaegar as nothing more than a small and insignificant landmass. 

Rhaegar understood—Dragonstone hadn't shrunk. 

It was simply that, from the dragon's back, everything that once seemed grand and imposing now appeared small and unremarkable. 

As he started to relax, the gluttonous dragon suddenly exhaled a stream of green dragonfire into the air. Its speed surged, and it dove straight through the scorching flames. 

Rhaegar's pupils contracted as he clung tightly to the dragon's body, ducking to avoid the torrent of blazing dragonfire. 

Every dragon is unique, each possessing distinct characteristics. 

This extends to their dragonfire, which varies in both appearance and color. 

The gluttonous dragon's fire was an eerie, deathly green, resembling smoke that flickered between gaseous and liquid states, clinging to everything it touched. 

Once stained by this dragonfire, it was nearly impossible to extinguish, clinging to its victim like an inescapable curse. 

While Rhaegar could temporarily withstand the heat of the flames, he would never survive the prolonged agony of being engulfed by it. 

**Boom!** 

The gluttonous dragon tore through the sky, enveloped in its green dragonfire, and soared onward. 

Rhaegar clung tightly to its back, his clothes scorched and burned from the waist down, leaving his skin red and swollen with burns. 

Once again, the flames had seared his body—but this time, the injury was much less severe. 

Perhaps his bloodline had grown purer, his resistance to dragonfire more formidable. 

Extinguishing a strand of burning hair, Rhaegar's face was filled with unyielding determination. He shouted at the top of his lungs: "Dragonfire!" 

He could feel the dragon's resistance—its refusal to acknowledge him as its rider. 

So be it. Let the dragonfire come. He would face the inferno head-on and issue commands with unrelenting resolve. 

They would see who would submit first—the furious dragon or Rhaegar himself, consumed by fire. 

Hearing the High Valyrian command, the gluttonous dragon grew even more agitated, twisting and turning mid-air, spewing flames and trying desperately to shake him off. 

But Rhaegar gritted his teeth and refused to let go. 

He had a premonition: victory would belong to the one who held on until the very end. 

--- 

In the cave, the gluttonous dragon's massive form was already gone. 

And with it, so was the king's eldest son. 

After a moment of stunned silence, Cole regained his composure and hastily led his men away. 

The prince had vanished. He would have to report this to both the princess and the king. 

Regardless of the outcome, he knew he would have to bear the responsibility. 

As he stumbled out of the Dragonmount, Cole encountered the dragon guards returning from their reconnaissance of the canyon. 

The guards tried to regroup with him, but he shoved them aside, rushing toward the castle without a second thought. 

At some point, the once-clear sky had darkened, filled with thick, rolling clouds. 

**Drip, drip...** 

A sudden downpour drenched the earth, the cold rain mirroring the icy dread in his heart. 

By the time he reached the castle, soaked to the bone, the royal family was already gathered in the great hall. 

Looking like a drowned rat, Cole drew everyone's attention. 

Viserys was the first to speak, his confusion evident. "Ser Cole, why the panic?" 

Lowering his head in shame, Cole replied despondently, "The prince has been taken away by a dragon." 

"A dragon?" Viserys was momentarily stunned, unable to comprehend. 

Rhaenyra sprang to her feet, glaring at Cole with fiery eyes. "Weren't you supposed to be searching for a hatchling?" 

"We were deceived by false information and lured into the Dragonmount," Cole admitted, his voice trembling. "We found a hatchling, yes, but then a massive adult dragon ambushed us." 

Shaking his head in despair, he continued, "The prince noticed something was wrong, but he refused to leave. Instead, he threw himself onto the dragon's back, intending to... tame it." 

"Damn it! You just stood there and watched as Rhaegar rushed toward a dragon?" Viserys erupted with fury. 

Rhaenyra strode forward, her voice urgent. "Where is Rhaegar? Where is that dragon?" 

"I don't know," Cole confessed, his voice heavy with regret. "The prince gave the dragon a command to fly. We didn't have time to stop him." 

Having spent years by Rhaenyra's side, Cole had picked up enough High Valyrian to understand key phrases. 

**Smack!** 

The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the empty hall. 

Rhaenyra, her hand still raised, pointed angrily at Cole, her voice trembling with rage. "I trusted you to protect my only brother!" 

"I'm sorry..." Cole's face bore the clear imprint of her hand, and he hung his head, overwhelmed with shame. 

"Enough talk! Send people to track the dragon's whereabouts—immediately!" Rhaenyra's tone was icy as she stormed out of the hall ahead of everyone. 

Taming an adult dragon was no trivial matter. 

Every year on Dragonstone, reckless fools attempted to tame wild dragons—and paid the price for their arrogance. 

No one had ever succeeded. 

In the end, they either turned to ashes or were burned beyond recognition. 

She thought that, after the cautionary tale of Dreamfyre, Rhaegar would settle for taming a young dragon. 

Unexpectedly, Rhaegar still hadn't extinguished his ambition to tame an adult dragon. 

The wild dragons on Dragonstone, long without riders, were fiercely untamed. 

Taming them was far more difficult and dangerous than handling Dreamfyre, who had been restrained by chains. 

Rhaegar's desire to tame an adult dragon was all for her sake. 

If anything were to happen to him because of it… 

She didn't dare to think about it. 

She would spend the rest of her life consumed by endless guilt. 

---

A soaring dragon surpasses all the stallions in the world. 

But an enraged dragon? The power it unleashed could destroy any town. 

Unable to shake off the human child clinging to its back, Glutton's green eyes gleamed with madness. Each roar reverberated through the clouds. 

"Glutton, dragonfire!" 

Lying flat on the dragon's back, Rhaegar relentlessly issued commands. 

Hearing these intrusive orders, Glutton simply refused to comply, choosing instead to defy every command. 

Its body stretched and flattened, its neck dipped slightly downward, and its vertical pupils fixated on the azure sea below. 

It planned to dive into the ocean to wash off the pesky human clinging to its back. 

As it plummeted at high speed, Rhaegar's body became weightless, leaving only his bloodied, blistered hands gripping the dragon's scales. 

The air pressure made it hard for him to breathe. Rhaegar clenched his eyes shut, his mouth instinctively opening, only to be filled with rushing wind. 

*SPLASH!* 

Glutton plunged straight into the churning waves, its massive body swallowed by the sea. 

Caught in the chaos, Rhaegar found himself gulping down seawater after seawater. 

The salty brine filled his lungs, and soon it felt like every breath was slipping away. 

For a fleeting moment, Rhaegar was overwhelmed by helplessness, his instincts urging him to release his grip. 

"ROAR…" 

Beneath the waves, Glutton let out a deafening roar, swallowing fish in its path, its tail propelling it upward with a surge of power. 

The massive black dragon broke through the ocean's surface, its wings unfurling as it soared back into the blue sky. 

Dragons could dive briefly into the sea, but they could never stay there for long. 

Glutton hated the water. Though it plunged into the ocean, it quickly burst back out. 

This gave Rhaegar a chance to catch his breath. 

Seizing the moment as Glutton emerged from the waves, Rhaegar pounded his chest, violently coughing up the seawater in his lungs. 

Dazed, he opened his eyes, only to see the massive black dragon skimming the ocean's surface, its talons sending up waves in its wake. 

---

**(End of chapter)**